


Fight For This

by irishvelvet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Friends to Lovers, Hopeful Ending, Journalist Louis, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, No Smut, Photographer Harry, Soul-Searching, letting go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7011928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishvelvet/pseuds/irishvelvet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis just landed his dream job has a journalist for a travel magazine. He flies back to London to report. He later finds out that the photographer-partner assigned to him is Harry Styles, the boy who broke his heart all those years ago. Will Louis open his heart up to Harry again?</p>
<p>For the prompt:<br/>I'm a sucker for that angsty, slow burning shit. So was thinking you could do something to do with "Million years ago" by Adele. I'd probably love it more if they were life long friends, but somehow they both fuck it up when they were teens, and how it goes from there, til they meet again.<br/>friends to lovers to enemies to meet again, if that makes sense?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight For This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skyyfreitas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyyfreitas/gifts).



An intimidating building looms over Louis, its glass doors revolving and a constant stream of people flowing in and out. A big “W” is embossed on the top left corner of the establishment. The sun shines through, and beads of sweat start to form on the back of his neck. He’s worked for this. For three years he has studied Journalism at the University of Southern California, one of the best schools in America and spent another four doing research whilst writing for several in-state magazines. But this, what’s in front of him, is what he actually wanted.

After several grueling online interviews with poor internet connection, lagging, and freezing screens, he’s finally landed a job at Wanderlust magazine. He’d always wanted to travel and write for a living, and now he’d get to do that. Taking a steadying breath he gathers his courage and enters the building. The inside was more colorful than the outside of the building. The exterior looked sleek and professional, but inside he was greeted by a splash of colors on bright marble. A receptionist was seated behind a counter, shuffling papers and talking to someone through her headset.

Louis saunters to the counter and smiles broadly at the woman, waiting for her conversation to end. It looks like it’d be a while so he takes his surroundings in once again; the initial stream of people from the doors had already let up, probably employees going to their own floors when the building opened. A few people were sitting around the sofa in the lobby, most likely visitors or interviewees.

“Good morning, sir.” The woman from behind him stands up and addresses him with a curt smile. “What can I do for you?”

Louis turns around, placing a hand over the counter and clutching his portfolio closer to him. “Hello, I’m Louis Tomlinson, I start work today.”

“Yes, you are.” She says her smile warming. “I should have recognized you from your application.” She grabs a white envelope from under her table and hands it to him. “My name is Lindsey. Here is your welcome packet.” She walks over to where Louis is and leads him to the lift. “Let me show you the way to Mr. Payne’s office,” she says. “Welcome to Wanderlust.”

Lindsey shows him how to use his ID as a key pass to the lift and the employee lounge and they make a short detour to his work station before going to the editor’s office.

Lindsey checks in with the secretary, Chris, before they are allowed in. She pulls the glass doors open just as Mr. Payne stands from his desk. It is a corner office, it’s wall made of glass from floor to ceiling giving an inviting view of the city.

Mr. Payne extends his arm and shakes Louis’ hand firmly. “Welcome, Louis!” he says before giving Lindsey a nod. “Thank you, Linds.”

“I’m excited to work here,” Louis says truthfully.

“Well, not here,” Mr. Payne chuckles. It’s true, if luck was on his side, he wouldn’t be working in the office that much.

Louis smiles. “That’s true.” 

Mr. Payne looks much younger than the way he did during the video conference. His skin glows as bushy eyebrows frame his brown eyes. He has a playful vibe emanating from him but a façade of business formality keeps it from escaping. “You look younger than you are, Louis.”

“Thanks, Mr. Payne.” He preens at the compliment. “Must be the California sun.”

“Please, call me ‘Liam’,” 

“Ok, Liam.” Louis fiddles with his cufflinks. Liam examines him for a bit, and Louis wants to fill the silence. “So do I have any assignments already?” he asks, eager to get to the job.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Liam says. “But let me introduce you to your partner first.” Louis looked forward to meeting his photographer; he did not have his own partner when he was a free lance, one was assigned to him for every project. His job description for Wanderlust included constant travel, and it’s just more practical if he had a steady partner. Liam pushes a button in his telephone and speaks. “Chris, would you please call Styles to my office?” Louis panics a little at the name but surely there are a lot of people surnamed Styles in the UK?

“Right away, sir.” Comes the low-voice reply of Liam’s secretary.

Liam claps his hands together and sits down making his chair swivel a little. “You’re going to love Harry.” 

Harry and Styles. Harry Styles. A lot of people in the UK are named Harry. Prince Harry, Harry Potter, well that’s not a real person, but that’s the point. Harry is a common name in UK. It wouldn’t be the same Harry Styles he used to know right?

…oOo…

Louis saw a moving van parked in front of their neighbors a few houses down. He hoped so much that they had a kid so he could have a new playmate. He loved his sister very much, but she was still a baby, and he really couldn’t play with her proper can he?

A few days after the moving van left, he rode his bike down the street just to see the new neighbors. He stopped at a house in front of them and saw a young boy playing in the pool.

The boy’s hair was damp and plastered to his head. He had the biggest round eyes Louis had ever seen.

Louis got back to his house and begged his mum profusely to bake cookies for them to give to the neighbors so he could meet the young boy.

The next day, with a jar of cookies in his hand, Louis and his mum walked to the new neighbor’s house. The house was simple, clean, and white. His mum pressed on the doorbell and a beautiful melody filled the house, it was unlike the other doorbells which just buzzed.

He heard footsteps coming and a muffled call of “Mum.” from the inside.

A few seconds later, the door opened and revealed a woman with long dark hair pushed to the side, in front of her was the young boy Louis saw.

“Hello,” His mum greeted. “My name is Jay, and this is my son Louis.”

Louis could not wave hello so he pushed the jar forward instead. 

“Hello. I’m Anne,” she said and put both of her hands on the little boy’s shoulder. “And this is Harry.”

Anne took the jar from Louis. 

“Those are cookies. We’d just like to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“This is so sweet of you,” Anne said. Louis could not really remember; he was very excited to play with Harry.

…oOo…

Louis starts to feel hot again even with the air conditioning unit keeping the room cool. His mouth feels a little dry, and his heart leaps faster in his chest.  _ Please let it be another Harry Styles. _ He loosens the top button of his shirt to help himself breathe. He doesn’t know how to react, but he promised himself before that if he ever saw Harry Styles again that he’d be civil, even if he shattered Louis’ heart and left him to pick the million pieces up alone. He can do that. He’s a professional. Besides, it might not even be his Harry Styles, well not  _ his _ , but the Harry Styles from his past.

“Good morning, Liam.” The voice is so familiar that Louis can’t help but remember all the times it said his name. The first time, when it was so jolly, and the last time when it was firm and sad. All the variations tugs at his heart. He didn’t have to turn around to know it was him.

“Harry,” Liam motions for him to sit on the opposite chair to Louis, “this is Louis Tomlinson, your new partner.”

Louis looks up to him and he was met with the green eyes that he remembers so well. His hair was cut short, shaved at the sides, military-esque. Louis can see his quirky ears and even though he tries to muster a smile he knows that it looks fake. 

“Nice to see you again, Louis.” He smiles and Louis could detect a hint of sincerity in his voice.

“Harry.” Louis acknowledges; he can’t lie and say that it was nice to see him too, because it was not.

A look of confusion sets in Liam’s face, eyebrows furrow in confusion. “We went to secondary school together.” Harry supplies. Liam nods in understanding

“That we did.” Louis says. It still feels too hot. Harry Styles is uncomfortably close to him, and he hates it.

“Harry here is one of our most loyal employees.” Louis couldn’t stop the scoff which escapes from his mouth; he wants to laugh it off but remains silent upon seeing the frown that replaces Harry’s smile.

Louis wants to ask Liam if he could have another partner but he also needs the job to pay off his student loans. He’s professional. He can work with someone he hates. No, he doesn’t hate Harry. That would mean that he cared, and  he does not. He’s indifferent to him. 

“So, what’s the assignment?” Harry asks. Apparently he could also work with Louis.

He wants this. Dreamt of this. He’s going to do it. Harry Styles will not change that.

To Louis’ relief, Liam brushes off the scoff and gives them the assignment. They wanted to do a beach piece, and they were being sent off to the Philippines to check out Boracay beach. It was well-known and Louis had always wanted to go, even Harry if he remembers correctly.

…oOo…

It was late in the night, or early in the morning. Louis laid still in the comfort of his bed, wrapped in his fleece blanket, contemplating life.

There was a thud on his window, the sound of pebble hitting the glass. Harry. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement at the thought of him. He stood up still engulfed by the blanket; there was an orange glow which came from the backyard.

He pushed open the window to see what Harry wanted. He looked down and was surprised at what he saw.

Tea light candles were spread out in the grass to spell out ‘will you be my boyfriend?’ Each flame swayed with the wind and Louis could not help the smile creeping on his face. Harry stood by the question mark.

He threw the blanket over his bed and ran as fast as he could to their yard.

He opened the door and leaped to Harry’s open arms. Harry caught him and held him. Louis closed the gap by connecting their lips and kissed Harry for the first time.

It was always there; that feeling of constant need to be with Harry, to be what he needed, the urge to make him laugh, and to comfort him whenever he was sad. He cared for him so deeply that Louis was confident to call what they had love.

…oOo…

It is just a week after he started working for the company when he finds himself packing his swim trunks and other summer clothes. He isn’t looking forward to the fourteen-hour flight in his immediate horizon, coupling that with the fact that said flight would be with Harry.

They’d always talked about this when they were younger. They wanted to travel the world, Harry would take pictures, Louis would write. Although not everything goes according to plan, of course.

Wanderlust does not skimp out on their travelling employees. They were booked for a first class flight to the Philippines via Hong Kong. So that’s a plus, Louis could use the legroom. His phone rings and he jumps at the sound, it was the driver sent to pick him up. 

“Hello,” he says.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Tomlinson. I’m already here outside your building, would you like me to help you with your bags? What floor are you in?” The driver asks.

“It’s okay, mate. I can carry the luggage myself.”

He double checks that he has his passport and his company-paid credit card (hell yes, that would be used so much in this trip). He zips up his bag thinking that whatever he forgot he could just buy. Thank you, Wanderlust.

The light of the sky begins to dissipate as Louis steps inside the car. In less than an hour they arrive at Heathrow. He steps through security, one with the throng of travelers in the international hub. He’s wearing sweats and a well-worn jumper, deciding  to forego being formal in favour of comfort. 

Harry has a different idea. Louis sees him waving him over in the line to the check-in counters. He walks over to him thinking that it’d be better to interact with Harry than going to the end of the line. He was wearing sinfully skinny black jeans, the shape of his thighs accented by the tightness, it looks like the denim was painted on. He paired them with a white button down shirt, the top three buttons unbuttoned to expose his clean chest. Louis can see that Harry’s gotten tattoos, an outline of two birds of some sort could be seen through his shirt. “Hey, Lou,” he greets.

“Harry.” 

“You look great,” Harry says, and Louis contemplates just heading to the back of the line.

“Thank you,” he says dismissively. Harry looks good too if Louis is being honest, but he wants to limit all his interactions with the other man.

...oOo…

The houses they passed all seem like a blur. A pop song played on the radio and Louis lowered his window and sang along. “Guitar cutie, he plays it groovy, I can’t keep myself from doing something stupid, think I maybe falling for his smile, he really blows me away.”

He reached out a hand to ruffle Harry’s hair, feeling the need to touch him. Harry smiled and kept on driving. He traced his jaw and cupped his chin, pinching it gently as he enjoyed the feel of fine hair starting to grow on the spot.

“That’s my song for you,” Louis declared.

Harry laughed and, in the cute way he does, crumpled up his face, pulled his lips together and scrunched his nose. “Hannah Montana?”

Louis stared at him, and replied to him in all seriousness. “Every song reminds me of you.”

Harry extended his arm to tickle Louis. “Cheesy.” His leg flexed to press the clutch down.

The other boy saw the movement and shifted the stick for him. “You love it.”

“I love you,” Harry said and made a turn towards their street.

“That you do,” Louis said.

Harry parked the car in front of Louis house. He went out and walked around the car to open Louis’ door for him. “Your highness.” He curtseyed and held his palm out for Louis to take.

“Thank you.” Louis took the hand in his and they headed inside the house. “I’m home. I’m with Harry,” Louis called out drawing out the vowels.

“In the kitchen, love,” his mom said. They both walked towards the kitchen with their hands intertwined.

A big yellow cake was waiting for Louis in the kitchen counter, his mom just finishing frosting it with ‘Congratulations!’.

Beside the cake was a large cardinal red envelope lined with gold. It was addressed to Louis and had the emblem of USC. Louis screamed in excitement as his mom gave the envelop to him. Anticipation welled in his chest and his heart was pounding, it had to be good right, since the envelope was thick?

He tore it open and slid a sheet of paper out and read the contents out loud. “Dear Mr. Tomlinson, we are pleased to inform you have qualified for the Journalism program of the University of Southern California…”

He was cut off with screams and he went over to hug his mom. “Congratulations, boo bear.” He squeezed her tighter.

“Congratulations, love,” Harry called out. He broke away from his mum’s embrace and gave his boyfriend a firm hug. “I’m really happy for you.” He whispered in his ear.

…oOo…

A ground stewardess acknowledges them and they walk up the counter. “Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson?” she asks them after receiving their passport and tickets. “I see that you’re travelling for Wanderlust? They’ve booked you in for first class.” She types something on her computer while the men remain silent. “Please place your check-in luggage here to be weighed.” She points at the conveyor belt on the side of the counter.

Harry carries Louis’ luggage. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he says. “I’m closer anyway.” There was no reason to fight it anymore, both pieces of luggage were already weighed.

“Thanks,” Louis mumbles, feeling annoyed to admit Harry was right because he does not want his help.

“Here are your boarding passes and passports.” She gives them their newly printed boarding passes. “You can start boarding in twenty minutes over at gate 28.”

“Thank you,” Harry says politely. Louis also mumbles his gratitude.

It takes them a quarter of an hour to reach the gate. There is already a line of people standing by the entrance to the tarmac when they arrived. A lady from the counter was regulating those who were entering announces through the speakers that they are beginning to board first-class passengers.

Louis slings his bag to his left shoulder from his right, which was aching a bit from the weight. “Come on.” 

They board the plane without incident. “You could take the window if you like,” Louis says, because of course they’d be seated together. Whoever booked their flight didn’t know that Louis would have preferred not to be seated with Harry Styles, but whatever. He’s just grateful for this opportunity.

Harry smiles at him, puts his carry on in the overhead cabin and slides in. Louis does the same with his bag, carefully so as not to damage the laptop inside.

He puts down the armrest once he was seated; he needs that barrier for his sanity.It takes another twenty minutes before the plane taxies off the runway and they are airborne. 

“Lou,” Harry says from beside him. He looks at him. “We need to talk.”

“No, Harry, we don’t.” He shakes his head. “From now on we are colleagues, not friends.” He pulls some medication from his pocket and pushes a button to call on an air hostess. “We only talk if it’s relevant to our job, okay?”

“If that’s what you want.” Harry looks down at his lap.

The air hostess comes over. “What can I do for you, sir?” she asks.

“Can I have something to drink please?” Louis asks. The lady nods and walks back to their station near the cockpit. “It is what I want,” Louis says to Harry.

“I have a lot of questions though,” he says softly, as if hoping Louis wouldn’t hear it.

Louis fumes a little at the comment. How dare he; he doesn’t deserve to know about Louis anymore, however something tugs at his heartstrings. He ignores it. “You’re not entitled to ask me personal questions anymore. You lost that right a long time ago,” he says, a lump in his throat beginning to form.

Just then the air hostess came back and handed Louis a bottle of water. He takes it and drank it with the sleeping pills. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry says.

_ Me too _ . Louis thinks. They could have been ‘it’. They’d found the love everyone wanted when they were just eighteen and Harry threw it all away. “See you in Hong Kong.” Louis says tapping the screen in front of him for entertainment as he waits for the pills to take effect.

…oOo…

The sun was shining brightly over the sky. One of those rare days in London when the sky was clear and there was not a cloud in sight. A blanket was spread in the grass under a big tree; Louis leaned on the trunk while Harry lay on the blanket with his head on Louis’ lap. Louis was absentmindedly combing his fingers through Harry’s long curly hair. It’s soft and colored like the sweetest chocolate. His other hand held Harry’s fingers, and they lay there silently content with the sounds of nature mingling with their breaths. There was nothing more to say. They’ve dreamed together and planned their future. The next three years would be tough, but their love could survive it, Louis had no doubt. He’d already given Harry his heart, and he trusted him to take care of it, just like the boy gave his to him.

They only had a week left before Louis would have to go to California to study journalism, so they’d spent the whole summer attached to each other’s hip. They savored every moment together, had made love to each other and memorized every little detail of each other’s body.

“I love you, Haz,” Louis said because sometimes he just can’t contain the feeling. He held up the hand he was holding and kissed each fingertip.

Harry sat up straight, and disentangled his fingers from Louis’ grip. “Lou,” he started. “I want to break up.”

And in that moment Louis’ whole world fell apart. He did not see it coming. Everything was perfect. “What?” he asked, hoping that he heard it wrong.

“I want to break up, Louis,” Harry repeated without stuttering, saying it faster than his usual drawl.

“Why?” It couldn’t have been happening right? Harry was just pulling his leg? “Are you joking?” he asked, trying to laugh. But deep inside he knew Harry wasn’t joking. He wasn’t much of an actor, and his tone was serious.

“I like someone else,” Harry said.

Louis exhaled as he searched Harry’s eyes, their green was brightened by the sun, his eyes sparkled, as tears filled the brim. “Harry, it’s okay to have a crush on someone while you’re in a relationship. It just means you find them attractive, it doesn’t lessen the love you feel.” He stroked Harry’s arm. He wished that his words were enough, but with the way Harry held his gaze, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to change his mind.

“I want to break up, Louis.” he said in an even tone. He got up as fast as he could and he ran away from Louis. He left Louis all alone.

Louis tried calling him but to no avail. He spent the days he had left in London going to Harry’s house and waiting for him to come out, only to be advised by Harry’s mum to just go home.

All communication between Louis and Harry stopped. Even on all social media he was blocked by Harry. When Louis would feel weak and give in, he would check on Harry’s sister’s feed to see what he was up to. There were a couple of pictures of Harry there hanging around with Niall. Louis couldn’t bring himself to ask his younger sister, Lottie, about Harry. He needed to stay strong while he was alone in America, so that his family wouldn’t worry. When he left, he promised his family that he’d be alright. And he was alright. He’s made new friends in California, and didn’t look back.

...oOo...

It was irksome how seven years later, Harry still looks attractive to Louis. When he thought about the moment that they would meet again, he imagined things to be different, that he would find everything Harry did annoying, that he would somehow be tainted. But there was Harry, under the beating sun, wearing a white rash guard with his yellow shorts that, in Louis’ opinion, is too short, trying to have a conversation with their boatman.

Louis observes his surroundings, noting that there were a lot of people waiting to ride small boats, around ten feet long and four feet wide in the middle, with some sort of scaffolding on the side. He’s trying to shift his focus away from Harry, and how endearing he is talking with the tan boatman who is a foot shorter than him. Clearly taking in the sights of the shores isn’t working.

Harry has his waterproof GoPro with him and began taking pictures of the boatman, and the other boats. Louis checks that he has his waterproof tablet to take notes on. He walks over to where their boat was waiting for them. The itinerary for the day was to go snorkeling then have lunch at what the locals call Pucca Beach.

“Good morning,” he greets the boatman.

“Hello, sir Louis.” The boatman smiles at him “My name is Norman and I’ll be your boat driver today,” he says with a thick Filipino accent, his vowels hard.

Louis smiles at him noticing his friendly face, and his hair tied up in a bun. “Thank you, Norman. Don’t call me ‘sir’, just go with ‘Louis’,” he says.

Norman helps him get on the boat. They need to climb up a bamboo ladder which leads to the bow of the boat. It is hard to balance as waves keep on making the boat sway, and it’s a good thing that Norman’s steady hands are there to guide him. The center of the boat is emanating heat, and he figures that’s where the engine was so he seats himself far from it. Harry seems to have it easier than him, grabbing a nearby pole for support. He smiles at Louis and sits opposite him.

“It’s going to be twenty minutes before we reach a good snorkeling spot. The waves are high at this time so the boat may flip over,” Norman says with a laugh. “I suggest you wear the life vests.” He points under their seats where bright orange life vests were stored.

Harry leans over, his head almost hitting Louis’ knees. He gets two of the vests and gives one to Louis. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Louis says. He puts on the vest and fastens it across his chest and stomach while Harry does the same.Harry takes out his camera again and begins taking pictures. Louis leans back and observes the island getting smaller and smaller as they go farther out to sea. “Norman, why do you have this bamboo scaffolding on the sides of the boat?”

“Ah,” Norman says as he steers the boat. “That’s called  _ katig _ . They help with the balancing of the boat, so if there is big wave it will not sink.”

“ _ Katig _ ,” Louis repeats as he looks into the deep blue ocean water framed by the bamboo poles making up the  _ katig _ .

“Yes, that’s what makes a  _ Paraw  _ special. If a boat has  _ katig _ , it’s called  _ Paraw _ ,” he says.

Louis dips his hand in the water, cool and inviting in the hot weather. He can’t wait to get in it. The rays of the sun are causing rainbows to be visible in the water where it hits Louis’ palm, a prism of light.

They go over a big wave causing the bow to rise and then fall immediately. Louis slides off his seat and onto the floor. Harry catches him so his head won’t hit the wood of the boat’s bed. They lock eyes and it hits Louis how little Harry has changed.

The same green eyes look at him, laced with genuine concern and it does things to Louis’ insides, a flutter in his stomach with a light but faster beating of his heart. It isn’t fair; Harry shouldn’t have the power to make Louis feel a consuming pull towards him anymore. 

“Are you okay, love?” he asks.

Louis scrambles to get back to his seat, flinching away from the endearment used. Of course it was usual for Harry to call everyone ‘love’ but he just can’t hear that right now.  

“I’m okay,” he says, trying to act normal. He grabs his waterproof duffel bag and checks that he has his swimming gear.

Harry goes back to taking pictures of the beautiful scenery. There is an island in the horizon, lined with white sand and a hill beyond that is covered in luscious green trees, in stark contrast with the clear azure sky.

The engine stops purring when they were about fifty meters away from the shore. 

“This is where you could snorkel,” Norman says, “there are a lot of fish in here that you could see. And the island that you can see there is called the Crocodile Island.” 

“There aren’t crocodiles there, right?” Harry asks.

Their boatman laughs. “Who knows,” he says jokingly, “but the island is named after its shape; from a bird’s-eye view it looks like a large crocodile.”

Louis releases the breath he did not know he was holding. There were no crocodiles “How deep is the water here?”

“It’s only twenty feet.” Their boatman grabs a pack of sliced bread from his cooler. “You could swim without a vest if you want.” He hands Louis the bread. “You can use this to get the fish to swim near you; just break it into small pieces,” he says.

Louis takes off his vest and prepares to jump in the water. He stands on the boat’s ledge just as Harry focuses the small camera on him. He smiles and gives his best pose, arm arching to show off his toned muscles. The shutter continues to go off and Louis stares off into the distance to give a moody picture. He tries to condition himself to think that it isn’t Harry behind the camera, just a workmate.

“I’ll take your picture,” Norman says extending his hand to get the GoPro from Harry, who is still perched in his seat.

Harry shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. We only need pictures of Louis for the article.”

“Come on, you know you’d love to be in front of the camera just as much as you love taking pictures,” Louis catches himself saying, but it was too late now so he beckons Harry forward.

Harry stands up and helps Louis to get down from the ledge. Norman points them to the bow. They stand on one of the steps and smile for the camera. 

“Closer,” the boatman says.

The taller boy places his hand on Louis’ shoulder with a gentle grip. Louis feels a surge of electricity from the spot where Harry was touching him which spreads all over his body.  _ Well, fuck it _ . He winds his own arm around his waist and rests his hand on the other boy’s hip. Just because they can act like friends, doesn’t mean that they are.

After a couple of pictures Harry thanks Norman and takes the camera from him. Louis sits back down and opens the bag of bread. He takes one slice and breaks it off into small chunks and throws it in the water. The bits float in the surface and, a few seconds later, colorful fish swim near it and eat it. Harry takes several shots with his camera. 

Louis sits on the ledge, his toes dipping into the water, testing it for the temperature. It’s cool but not too cold. He gets his goggles,places them over his eyes and slides into the water.

The impact is wonderful; the cool water surrounds him as the sounds above the surface are muffled by the water. He swims to the surface to catch his breath, closing his eyes so as not to catch the sun’s glare.

He swims back down and sees various fish with different colored scales, and some had different patterns on their small fins. There are orange fishes with white stripes just like Nemo, there was also a school of white fish, with their tails and fins so flimsy and almost transparent as they swim in the current of the water. There’s a peach-colored starfish just an inch from his toe, it had black spikes all over it. He bends his knees to get away from the starfish, afraid that it might actually be poisonous.

The scene is disturbed and millions of tiny bubbles outlining a figure replaces what he sees. The bubbles dissipate to reveal Harry’s figure.

They both swim to the surface. “Good view?” Harry asks.

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Would make for nice pictures.”

Harry winks at him through his massive goggles and submerges himself in the water. Louis wades off and swims around the perimeter of the  _ Paraw _ . He can’t wait to get started on writing his article.

After about half an hour in the water, Louis’ fingers were already wrinkled. He finds the bamboo ladder attached to the  _ Paraw _ and climbs it. He dries himself with a towel and puts on the shirt he brought. He consumes an entire bottle of water, thirstier than he thought he was.

He brought out his notebook and begins to type down key points for his article. He finishes just as Harry goes back on board.

…oOo…

They dock at Pucca Beach thirty minutes later. 

“Wear your flip-flops,” Norman suggests. “The shore is made of Pucca shells, not sand. Very hard.” 

They both wear their slippers and climb off the boat. They hear the crackle of shells when their feet hit the ground. Upon closer inspection, the shore really was not made of sand, but of millions and millions of tiny seashells. Louis has the urge to get some and send them to his sister but there was a sign saying that that there was a fine imposable for such an act.

Norman leads them to a shanty full of people. The sound of lively conversation fills the air, of families having fun and friends joking around, mixed with the clanking of silverware as they ate.

The shanty is made of darkened wood, its roof of dried leaves. A waiter calls upon them to sit on a newly-cleared table. They both walk over and sit opposite each other, as Norman walks back to the  _ Paraw _ to wait for them. Apparently there were no menus, the waiter placing in front of them plastic plates and a spoon and fork each. In the blink of an eye there was a huge bowl of rice on their table, and four pieces of red crab. On the side was a bowl of soup with green vegetables and pinkish shrimp in it. 

“Enjoy,” their waiter says in a hurry to serve other customers.

Their eyes met across the table, a little shocked at what just happened; it seems like it was a ninja who served them, one with lightning-fast reflexes. They observe the other tables to see how to go about eating the delicious-looking spread in front of them.

Everyone they see has rice piled on their plates and they spill the broth of the soup over it; they peel the shrimp with their bare hands and eat it with the soaked rice. Louis shrugs and copies them. His mouth is filled with different flavors, the tender shrimp tasting sweet and fresh in the sour broth. 

“Try it,” he tells Harry who is watching him intently.

Harry does and groans at the first bite. They enjoy the first few spoonfuls in silence. Harry takes a crab and opens its shell, handing it to Louis, and opens one for himself. 

“So,” he says, striking up a conversation. “You said that we could talk about work, right?” Louis just nods in agreement. “As a writer, how was it studying in USC?”

“How long did it take you to think of a loophole?” Louis asks, almost laughing as he sees Harry’s lips quirk into a soft grin.

Harry feigns ignorance and shrugs his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I think I was harsh when I said we couldn’t be friends.” Louis looks at his food.

“So you think we could?”

Louis ponders this question. Honestly, he missed being friends with Harry. Before they got together, he was his best friend; on that day he didn’t just lose the love of his life, he also lost the friend he could always come running to. Yes, Harry did break his trust as a boyfriend, but Louis thinks that maybe they could be friends again. “Maybe we should just start over,” he says realizing that Harry will never push the topic, it was always his decision, and Harry will respect it. So he agrees.

…oOo…

They go back to the hotel feeling exhausted. They head to their two-bedroom suite and Louis decides to take a long hot shower to wash away the sand and the sea. His upper body is itching, most likely due to the unseen salt from the sea, combined with the sun’s effect. He should have worn a rash guard.

He blasts music from his phone and enters the shower room, scrubbing himself. It’s a good thing their rooms both had en-suites, so that they didn’t have to take turns showering.

He lathers himself with aloe lotion to relieve his skin, and dabs moisturizer on his face which is noticeably more tanned than a few hours ago. He puts on his pants and jumps on his bed, falling asleep upon contact with the duvet.

…oOo…

Louis wakes up feeling refreshed. He raises his arms up, stretching his back and loving the feeling of relaxation. His room is dark, the thick curtains still spread over the large double doors that lead to the balcony overlooking the ocean.

He gets up and walks over to the curtains to draw them aside. He is greeted by a lovely view of the sunset. The sky is a swirl of pink, yellow, and orange. The colors more distinct where the sky meets the water. The sand looks almost yellow.

To his left he sees a row of sand structures, their makers lighting up tea candles and placing them in different nooks in whatever they have made. There were castles, and some were letterings of different words. He takes his phone out to take a picture of the beautiful scene.

A light breeze blows past, and the leaves of the palm trees sway in the same direction. Louis takes more pictures and notices a distinct figure among a throng of people by the shore.

He sees Harry seated in the sand wearing only his yellow shorts and diligently taking pictures of the sunset and the crowd before him. A kid approaches him and whispers something in his ear. The little girl was wearing a cute two-piece swimsuit, her top the color of jade, and her shorts cornflower. She then walks in front of Harry, places a hand on her waist and pops her hip. Louis could see Harry’s shoulders move up and down, possibly growing fond over the little girl’s cuteness.

He holds up his camera to his eye and begins taking pictures. After several poses, a woman comes over and carries the little girl, giving Harry a smile. The little girl waves at Harry as the woman walks back to her group.

The scene in front of him tugs at Louis’ heart, and he is filled with regret. They could have had all this, if they were just strong enough. He wonders if he had been more persistent back then whether he and Harry would have still been together. It was no use pondering on things he can’t change, though. Besides, it was not his fault Harry fell in love with someone else.

He goes back inside and opens his closet. He picks a graphic shirt and puts it on and pulls on the denim shorts he packed. He looks himself over the mirror and musses his hair to look like it was artfully disheveled, and not like he just got out of bed. He pockets his phone and wallet goes out to their living room.

The doorbell rings and he walks over and peers through the peephole to see who it is. It was Harry. He opens the door and steps aside for him to walk in. 

“Hey, Lou. Sorry, I forgot my keycard.”

“It’s okay,” Louis says. “I’m on my way out to have dinner and maybe check out the night parties.”

Harry nods as he walks to open the door of his room.

“Do you want to come with?” Louis asks.

Harry smiles at the offer. “Let me just go and change,” he says.

…oOo…

They end up back in their room not quite up for a partying night. They had five more nights to spend and Louis wants to maintain the relaxed feeling.

Harry had a bottle of wine sent up to their room and they both decide to catch up.

They share the bottle, sitting on the plush rug in the center of the living room as they trade stories. Neither knew where to start so Louis suggests they play twenty questions instead. 

Harry asks the first question after a swig of the red liquid. “Are you dating anyone now?”

Louis swallows his drink. So the big questions are out first. “Not currently.” He shakes his head. “No.”

“I have no follow up.” He leans on the welt of the sofa and grabs a throw pillow, hugging it to his chest. “Your turn.”

He tries to think of another question, but he was thinking of the same thing, so he goes ahead and asks. “Are you dating?”

“Not right now,” Harry admits. His hair was air-dried and the humidity from the shore earlier made it fuller. Louis resists the urge to run his hands through it. “When was the last time you went back to the UK; I mean before Wanderlust?”

“Seven years ago,” Louis answers and a flash of guilt crosses Harry’s eyes. He changes the topic quickly. “How long have you been working for Wanderlust?”

“Seven years,” Harry says, closing his eyes before continuing his story. “I’ve been Liam’s researcher, but after a few months I told him I want to be a photographer and showed them my amateur work. Liam recommended to the higher-ups that they sponsor me taking legit photography lessons, and in turn I’d work for them. It’s a good deal; I love working at Wanderlust. They’re generous, and everyone is very friendly.”

“I’m glad you’re doing something you love,” Louis says. Maybe in the initial time after their break up Louis wished him ill, but after a while he just really hoped that Harry was happy wherever he was. “Your turn.”

“Could you go first in this round?” he asks.

“Ok. Why’d you cut your hair?” Louis uses this as an excuse to reach out and mess up Harry’s already fluffy hair.

It’s still as soft as Louis remembers, shorter than before, but still velvety and light to the touch. Harry stills and Louis removes his hand. 

“Reminded me too much of someone,” he answers.

Harry must be referring to the person he chose over Louis. That stings a bit. Louis just hums and takes another sip of his wine.

“How’re Jay and Lottie?”

“Lottie’s still in Uni studying design but she lives with mum. Mum remarried, actually.”

“Yeah, I heard. Niall told me.” Niall is the little ball of sunshine they grew up with. Louis feels a pang of guilt for not having kept contact with him, with everyone.

Harry breaking up with him really messed up Louis’ world. He needed to get away, but now that he’s here with him, he can’t even remember why or how it all fell apart. 

“How’s Nialler?”

“He’s an engineer now and married to a lovely lady.” Harry squares his shoulders. “Gemma.”

Louis almost spills the drink he was holding. He puts the glass down the floor. “Your sister?” He asks in disbelief.

“Yes, my sister. She’s pregnant with twins, and due in five months.”

“Niall and Gemma, who would’ve thought?” Louis asks more to himself.  He focuses his eyes on the view of the sky, a thick black blanket dusted with a few stars, their lights dimmed by the strobes from the clubs all over the island.

Harry tops off his drink. “Well you know that he’d always had a crush on her, so after the billionth chat up line she gave him a chance and they went out on a date.”

“Must be some date.” They would look good together. Gemma is smart as a whip and Niall always made the best jokes. Come to think of it, their personalities do mesh well together. “Tell me about your tattoos.”

“My tattoos? I only have one set.” Harry says.

“Oh, it’s a set? They looked like birds.” Louis pointed at Harry’s chest.

“They’re swallows in love, separated by time but now they’re coming to meet again.”

“Does it represent someone?”

“Yes.”

They remain silent for a while. Harry stands up and grabs some chips from the counter over the minibar. They lose track of who should ask the next question so Louis just asks the question that’s been bugging him for seven years. They’ve both moved on, right? And it’s in the past? 

“When you broke up with me, you told me it was because you liked someone else,” he says in one breath. “Who was it?”

“No one, I just said that.”

Louis whips his head so fast he got whiplash. He reaches up to massage his neck. “What the fuck?”

“I didn’t want to hold you back, and I know it was stupid of me,” Harry states looking away from Louis.

Louis can’t even define what he’s currently feeling; he’s a writer but he had no words so he just waited for Harry to continue.

“I thought you’d feel tied down, and I thought you might meet someone there that you might like better. I didn’t want you to feel obliged-”

Louis cuts him off. “But we were in love, and we’d worked out a plan; I thought we had everything figured out,” he nearly shouts.

“There’s not a day I don’t regret the decision I made.”

Louis stands up and walks away. He was wrong; he can’t be friends with Harry Styles.

…oOo…

Louis needs a run. He needs to think. He kept tossing and turning the night before, but he still had energy buzzing through him.

The sun is only about to rise, everything is bathed in grey. Louis’ foot sinks in the sand with every step but he powers through. He could see people asleep in blankets laid over the powdery sand. There were also groups loading speedboats wearing complete Scuba gear.

He tries to focus on the blood-pumping song blasting from his iPod, but his thoughts keep going to the night before.

He was forced to open up the bottle of feelings he’s kept locked away for years. Forced to deal with the fact that after all these years, his feelings remained the same.

He’s so used to acting like he was okay, keeping up a strong front, that he’s also managed to fool himself into thinking he did not love Harry Styles. He’s been hurting for years, but he has learned to deal with it by pouring himself over his work.

Now, Harry is part of that work. Part of the current world he’s in. The world he’s worked so hard to shape to fit his own self. Harry’s back, and could he potentially ruin it?

But looking back, Harry said he loves him and that he regrets his decision. And there’s a part in Louis that is sure he still loves Harry, so what’s stopping him?

An hour later, he’s back in front of the hotel. He consumes all the contents of the bottled water he keeps hanging from his waist. He did not sweat from the run, the early morning breeze keeping him cool.

There were an elderly couple sitting on one of the white lounge chairs looking over the sea. There was something about them that’s drawing Louis in; maybe it’s the way their hairs were already grey, and their skin lined with wrinkles, but they still occasionally gaze at each other with young eyes.

An idea strikes Louis. He wanted to include them in the article, and not just to state that there was a lovely couple in the island, but tell their story as well. He thinks of a plan to approach them, but he needs to hurry before they leave, after all they might have something planned for the day.

Louis sits on the lounge chair which was next to theirs. 

“Hello,” he says tentatively, assessing how accommodating the couple would be. They smile at him in return. “My name is Louis.”

“I’m Carding.” The man says, his voice raspy from years of smoking. “This is my wife, Rosario,” he says as he puts an arm around her.

“This may sound weird, but I’m working for a travel magazine and I’m doing a piece about the island. Something about you guys caught my eye, would it be alright if I interview you?” Louis gives them his most winning smile.

Rosario’s own smile grows wider. “I don’t know if we’ll be interesting enough, but it’s alright. I’m in a giving mood,” she says jokingly; the way she talks reminds him of himself, full of sass. Louis laughs at that. 

“What would you like to know?” Carding says, turning his body towards Louis.

The beach begins to awaken, owners setting up different stalls and booths all around them, opening their doors and putting up signs. 

“First off, are you here for business or pleasure?” Although Louis knows the answer, he still wants to confirm.

“We’re celebrating our sixtieth anniversary,” the older man says before giving his wife a chaste kiss on the cheek. She smiles and leans into him.

Louis eyes widen. “Wow! Sixty years, congratulations!” he pauses, the questions he wants to ask initially doubling in number. “Why did you choose to celebrate in Boracay?”

The couple looks at each other with a knowing smile. “Here’s where we met again after being separated for so long,” Rosario answers.

Louis remains silent guessing by the way they’re still looking at each other that there’s more to the story. 

“See, we were childhood sweethearts,” Carding starts. “We were young but sure that we wanted to spend forever in each other’s arms.”

Carding weaves his fingers with Rosario, and the frail woman traces lines over the back of his hands. 

“That’s so sweet,” Louis comments.

“That’s how it started,” Rosario interjects. “Then he had to leave; said his family was marrying him off to someone else. My world was utterly destroyed.”

The man rubs soothing circles on her back but smiles gently. “That’s what I told her, but really, I was drafted to fight during the war.”

“Well you could’ve just told me that, twat,” she says, and Louis can’t help but laugh at the childishness of the comment. It is obvious though that she’d forgiven him.

“Why didn’t you tell her then?” Louis asks, his voice betraying his emotions. It’s the same thing he wants to ask Harry.

“I thought back then that she’d be better off without me, no lover to hold her back,” Carding reminisces. “I regret it though; there was not a day while I was away that I didn’t miss her. Our love was so immense, and I thought I’d lost you forever,” he addresses his wife.

“When the war was over, we met each other here,” Rosario supplies. “It wasn’t as crazy then.It was quiet, only a few resorts. I was with my friends, and he was with his.” She points over a spot near the sea. “There, I saw him again. The man I thought I’ve lost and that was that,” she says.

Louis stares at the spot. “How were you able to forgive him?”

Carding laughs, “she makes it sound so easy, but it took a while.”

Rosario joins him laughing. “Well, Louis, I agree it was not that easy. We both had to work for it. But you have to realize that he only lied to me because he thought that was best for me. In hindsight he was wrong to do that, but I did not want to spend my life simmering in the pain I felt without him. I knew I love him, I trusted his reasons, and eventually I got over it.”

“And sixty years later, here you are,” Louis says. “Thank you very much for sharing your story with me,” he adds sincerely.

They exchange contact details with a promise that Louis would send them a copy of the magazine. He gets up and heads for his room after saying his goodbyes to the lovely couple he just met.

…oOo…

Louis spends the day holed up in his room, Harry nowhere to be found. He decides to get started on the article that would not write itself.

He ponders over the story of Carding and Rosario and can’t help but think it’s very similar to his and Harry’s story. Granted he was not sent off to war, but Harry did have his reasons. No matter what he says to himself, he cannot deny the fact that he still loved him, and Harry feels the same.

He shuts the lid of his laptop and places it on the side of his bed. He walks over to the balcony and his eyes immediately go to Harry. He’s stretched in the sand wearing a green rash guard. His body long and lean, and he lets a little girl cover him with sand. Louis thinks it is the same cute girl from yesterday.

A force pulls him towards Harry, so he changes into his swim trunks and heads for where Harry is still on his back. The sun was beginning to set, and the cool air hits Louis just as he steps out of the hotel.

He makes his way toward the little girl. 

“Hello, cutie.”

“Hello.” Harry replies.

Louis ignores him and directs his body toward the little girl pouring sand over Harry’s thighs. “What’s your name?”

“Lena,” she says sweetly, still concentrating on covering Harry’s body.

“Hi, I’m Louis.” He extends his hand. She takes it in both of hers, each only gripping two fingers, and shakes it. “Would you like some help?”

“Yes!” she squeals. “Bury Hally.” She doesn’t have her R’s yet, in replacement she uses garbled L sounds which Louis fonds over.

“Okay,” he says. He looks at Harry, silently asking permission. In reply he just shrugs his shoulders.

He helps Lena cover Harry’s lower limbs with sand. She fills her bucket while Louis uses his hand to pack up sand on Harry’s sides. She dumps the sand she collected and Louis shapes it. Sometimes she finds colorful shells and stones and puts them on top of Harry’s body.

They finish up to his stomach, when a familiar raspy voice calls. “Lena. Time for dinner.”

Louis looks up to find Carding standing over them.

“ _ Lolo _ !” Lena calls as she stands up and drops her bucket to wrap her limbs around his leg.

Carding picks her up. “Hello, Louis, Harry.”

“Hey, Carding,” they both reply at the same time.

“Didn’t know you two know each other,” he says with a laugh. “Work it out boys; in sixty years you might be back here telling your own story.” He picks up Lena’s discarded bucket and walks back to the hotel. “See you around.”

“How do you know Carding?” Louis asks while continuing to put sand on top of Harry’s chest.

“I also played with Lena yesterday,” Harry answers. Louis can feel that he was afraid to say something wrong so he just doesn’t, and sticks to answering what Louis asks.

It is also weird for Louis, and he’s scared as well. He is about to admit something to himself and to Harry. They stay silent for a while, until Louis reaches the his collar bones and traces the eyebrows of the swallows. 

“I didn’t know birds had eyebrows,” he says. Louis notices that one of the birds is smaller than the other, and it had an arching line above it’s eye, while the other had a definitive straight brow.

“They don’t.” Harry says. Louis gives him a questioning look, pleading for him to explain himself. “They represent someone with the most beautiful curved eyebrows.” Harry looks at him meaningfully.

Realization hits Louis that the birds are the two of them, coming back together. He understands that Harry hoped they’d be brought back together again, he believed in it so much so that he had the symbols printed permanently on his skin.

Louis searches his eyes, gazing into the sparkling eyes. “I love you,” he says.

Harry smiles at that. “I love you too.”

Louis feels a pressure in his throat which prevents him from talking. He hopes that his next move will convey his message.

He surges forward and presses his lips against Harry. He is kissing him as if it were the first time. Everything is new but felt incredibly familiar, like it is his place to be one with Harry. Harry kisses him back, lips insistent.

Louis pulls back and runs away from him. Harry, with confidence, lifts himself off the ground as if the sand weighed nothing. He goes after Louis, and only a few seconds later he feels strong arms wrap around him lifting him up and twirling around. His feet dangle outward with the force of the turn and they both fell to the ground, giggling into each other and soaking the last remnants of the sun in as the sky is slowly painted ebony.

He is right; he could not have been  _ just _ friends with Harry. Rosario was right too. All he knows is that he loves Harry. And dammit he is willing to work for it, and so is Harry.

They have a long road in front of them, and it wouldn’t always be smooth sailing. But what’s the point of reveling in the pain when they were already in each other’s arms ready to make it alright again. Harry is the love of his life. Nothing has changed.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you like it! If you did, please comment. If you have points for me to improve on, please also leave comments.
> 
> Thank you to skyyfreitas for the prompt!
> 
> Thanks to my lovely betas, Lauren, Maryann and Jess for the words of encouragement, and for correcting my grammar and pointing out overused words :) I promise to be better next time.
> 
> PS: The song mentioned was He Could Be The One by Hannah Montana
> 
> If you liked it, please reblog [this post.](http://irretrishtible.tumblr.com/post/146547145861/fight-for-this-irishvelvet-one-direction) :)


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